


Triad

by DunmerLover



Category: Digimon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asperger Syndrome, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Chatlogs, Cheating, Dark digivolution, Digimon biology headcanon, Digimon/Human Relationships, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fan Art, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Masturbation, Not the canon digimon, Oral Sex, Original tamers - Freeform, Probably a LOT of British slang, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Size Difference, So many chatlogs, Some kind of love triangle, Tamers in the UK, Violence, dubcon, genital piercings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DunmerLover/pseuds/DunmerLover
Summary: The Digital World is in trouble. A terrible force has taken hold and Digimon are being ripped apart by seemingly nothing at all. There's no hiding from whatever is hunting them, and the delicate balance of their world is threatened.Among the Tamers recruited to help solve the mystery from the outside, one girl and her partner Digimon hide a relationship, and question whether they can be together at all.(Any new tags or characters will be added as I go)





	1. The Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fic I ever started writing. Years ago. And I kinda thought it was a bit shite, so I decided some day to go back and rework it into something better. It's a product of that part of my life when I thought every. single. chapter. needed a sex scene (it doesn't now). This was originally uploaded on AdultFanFiction and never finished. I wrote most of the smut while I was wasted so it wasn't good (it's better now).
> 
> Some things I'm adding in and some things I'm leaving out. I took out a Tamer and changed the name of the main character to something not fucking stupid.
> 
> I really got into Digimon when I was at university and saw Stingmon in a way I never did the first time around. Damn he's hot as hell. So expect things to get pretty graphic.
> 
> About the "world" this story is set in: this is a wholly new story with no canon Tamers. Their partners aren't the "canon" characters either. The format is a fusion of Adventure and Tamers, and the evolution lines follow those of the game _Digimon Masters_. In this world the passage of time has synchronised in the same way as at the end of Adventure 1, so a day in the Digiworld is the same as a day in the real world, but before this there would've been thousands and thousands of years of Digiworld to the real world's 30 years.
> 
> It's also set in locations in England, so this is the one story where I'm allowing myself to be as disgustingly British as I need to be. I'm trying to keep the narrative as global as I can but the dialogue and the situations are local. So be prepared for an, at times, extremely British story.
> 
> New development! I'm doing a drawing for every chapter of this story so stay tuned for those! I have a few to catch up on!

Warmth. And blackness. And not a care in the world. Right now, life was as perfect as it could get.

“Cris…” a gentle voice cooed, ever so tenderly, somewhere outside that perfect bubble.

Cris mumbled something incomprehensible and rolled over, ignoring the voice entirely. She didn’t want to wake right now.

“Come on Cris,” the voice was persistent. “Get up.”

The girl continued to grumble blearily.

“For fuck’s sake… get UP!”

Strong hands took hold of Cris as she dozed and practically threw her off the edge of the bed. She rolled onto the floor with a thump, and her tired eyes snapped open. The first thing she registered was suffering - that perfect bubble had burst and reality came flooding in, bringing with it all the agony of being hung over to high heaven. She heaved once, languidly, before getting to her feet and finally listening to her partner.

Cris was still somewhat drunk, it would seem - the room still swayed as she met eyes with her partner Digimon. Stingmon smouldered with frustration - his armoured face could betray no emotion yet Cris knew him well enough to know he was losing his patience with her as she stumbled, half asleep, into his arms.

“I hate to interrupt your beauty sleep…” he began derisively. His wings buzzed restlessly. “But we have to go. _Now_.”

Cris opened her mouth to speak, her mouth parched, and her response was a weak and cracked one. “A Digimon?”

Wordlessly, Stingmon gestured to the D-arc on Cris’ bedside table. Its screen glowed and the wooden table seemed to hum a little from the vibration of the device. Cris leapt straight into action, launching herself from her partner’s arms and stripping as fast as she could. She threw on the halter neck, loose jeans and thin hoodie still strewn on the floor from the day before, and when dressed, bent down to the mirror. She still had last night’s make-up on, and she rubbed briefly at the smudged eyeliner. It would have to do.

She grabbed her D-arc and phone, and headed for the door. She called for her friend as she charged down the stairs, and Stingmon followed just in time to grab Cris before she ran straight into her mother at the bottom of the steps.

“Hi- sorry Mum!” Cris squeaked, stepping back from her mother and closer to her Digimon.

“You’re off out again, I take it?” her mother asked. Her eyes flicked from her daughter’s to those of the insect still holding onto her shoulders.

Phone still held to her ear, Cris struggled to hold two conversations at once. “Mmhm, Tamer stuff- yeah Shelby I’m still with you, hang on.”

She met her mother’s eyes. “Tamer stuff, we won’t be long.”

“I made you tea, do you have time?”

“Thanks Mum…”

She took the mug and gulped down what she could handle - the drink was still a little too hot to drain as quickly as she’d like, then passed it back.

“Yeah I’m still here, where are you?”

A pause as she listened. “Okay, we’re on our way.”

Cris turned to Stingmon. “They’re outside town, just opposite the tyre place. I’ll walk us.”

A quick dash into an adjacent room and the girl returned with a large beach bag. As she unzipped it, her partner was enveloped by a blinding light that consumed the darkness of the hallway. The insect’s form shrunk fast to the height of Cris’ shin, and when that light faded, he was Wormmon. Cris scooped him up and dropped him in the bag. As she zipped it shut, she turned to her mother who looked utterly defeated.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She meant it. “We’ll be back soon.”

She opened the front door and then she was gone.

Her mother sighed into an empty hallway. “I can only hope…” she said darkly.

*

*

Cris ran as fast as she could, and for so long, she gasped for breath despite the gentle slope downhill.

“Nearly there…” she wheezed. Wormmon probably hadn’t heard her quiet rasp.

Soon after, she halted in a quiet street. They were working in daylight and that came with the added risk - and stress - of getting caught, but at least there was no one around right now. What they were about to do had to be done, or things would be worse. All they could do was get it done quick, and leave. Cris opened the bag and Wormmon leapt out, ready for the fight.

Once again he was consumed by that same light, and his shrouded form towered. Cris felt the D-arc strapped to her hip vibrate in unison with the Digimon’s energy. He Digivolved quietly, emerging once again in his Champion form. The insect stood, focused. The pair listened intently, and as he concentrated, Stingmon’s antennae quivered a little.

“I can smell them,” he said. “They’re not far. Follow me.”

He led the way, with Cris struggling in her condition to keep up with her partner’s long strides. He turned a corner, and hid away in an alley. Now the fight was close enough for Cris to hear, and before she was close enough to see, Stingmon dived into the fight.

Somewhere at the other end, Wizardmon and Togemon were locked in a furious, yet small battle, and as Cris approached the scene, it was clear the invader was winning. Wizardmon struggled to even stand, he must’ve been taking a beating for quite a while already, and he was slow to attack. Every bolt of electricity from his staff was met by five or more swift punches from the enemy until he was brought to his knees. The final brutal punch knocked him backwards into the brick wall behind, and he didn’t have the energy to get up and try again.

Shelby watched from the sidelines, as helpless as her partner. All she could do was rush to his side and kneel where he fell. She cradled his smaller form, whispering quick, quiet words of encouragement into his ear.

Togemon rounded on the two, but Stingmon was upon her before she could finish the defeated Digimon off. He aimed a roundhouse kick at her torso - she was knocked back and off her feet. She recovered slowly - Wizardmon had gotten his share of good hits in already. The cactus got to her feet, surveying her new foe, who stood ready for action, thirsty for the kill.

A familiar fear washed over Cris as she watched the two Digimon, quite frankly, beat the shit out of one another. Digimon were hardy things - every hit that came down on her partner made her flinch but Stingmon took each one in his stride, dodging and _enduring_ and offering as good as he got - better than he got. Stingmon was a Virus, and Togemon was a Data. They had the advantage this time - every kick that landed struck her five times as hard, and each of her punches he took five times as easily.

Stingmon pushed the enemy into a wall with a spike-laden shoulder and punched her in the face, over and over before Togemon head-butted him. The insect stumbled back.

Togemon span where she stood and released a barrage of thick spines. “NEEDLE SPRAY!” she hollered.

Stingmon charged back to his Tamer, shielding her from harm with his own towering form. He raised one gauntlet to his face and took the assault with ease, pushing Cris as close to his own body as he could. She was unharmed, like always, but her heart sank as she watched the muscles of her partner’s arms quiver with every needle that embedded in his skin. He shook off the worst though, and lunged at the Data. The spikes on his shoulders sprang out. Cris’ heart raced faster than ever. She knew well what this meant.

Two blinding beams of energy appeared at his wrists. He was in his element.

“SPIKING STRIKE!” he bellowed, and with his left blade he impaled the enemy. The scream of agony that followed was far more familiar to Cris now than she’d have liked it to be, and even after a year or so she never got used to it. Stingmon put her out of her misery quickly though - pulling out his left blade, swinging his right upwards and slicing Togemon in two. Her flesh burned where she’d been split so briefly before her form broke up into raw data, and disappeared. Stingmon stood and accepted his reward as the data drifted towards him, and his body took it in. When every last bit was absorbed, his energy blades retracted. Even though the alley now carried an overwhelming stink of burned plant matter, silence now fell upon the scene.

Heart still thumping somewhere in her throat, and limbs still shaking violently, Cris sighed in relief. Stingmon was okay. Everybody was okay, just like they always were. She glanced over at Wizardmon, who stirred slowly in Shelby’s arms, and approached on unsteady legs.

“Wizardmon… are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah mate, I’m fine,” the smaller Digimon responded. With Shelby’s help, he got to his feet.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” Cris said with a weak smile. “We got here as soon as we could.”

“It’s never easy first thing in the morning, is it?” Wizardmon said. Behind his cowl Cris could see the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile.

“Yeah, judging by the messages you sent me last night I’m surprised you’re even _alive_ ,” Shelby said, getting to her feet too. She grinned at the shorter girl, who blushed.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I? I haven’t even looked yet…”

“You were _hammered_ , Cris,” Stingmon contributed. He brushed off the last of the needles and placed a hand on his Tamer’s shoulder. When she shivered, the hand moved and he pulled her into a full embrace in an attempt to keep her warm.

“Oh God, was I really?”

“I can only assume you decided to forego the mixer again…” Stingmon replied. He grinned a wide grin that nobody could see. “At least you didn’t throw up on me this time.”

“Shit… I’m sorry,” Cris groaned.

Shelby smiled as she watched the two. Unlike Cris, the brunette had dressed for the biting cold of the morning, and stood comfortably by her partner’s side. She looked up at Stingmon. “Thanks for your help,” she said. “I… don’t think we’d have pulled through without you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he brushed off her praise. “How’d you find this one?”

“Just chance,” Shelby pushed her thick glasses further up the bridge of her nose. “Right outside our window.”

“She definitely came in by accident,” Wizardmon said. “You could _tell_ she had no idea where she was.”

“ _None_ of them are coming through on purpose these days… are they?” the blond said. She still huddled into Stingmon’s body for warmth. “We’re seeing more of them too. It wasn’t always like this - we’ve had, what, two this week already?”

Wizardmon nodded. “They’re getting stronger, too. _They’re_ getting stronger, and we’re not keeping up.”

“How much longer can we keep doing this?” Cris asked, a pained look on her face. “Sooner or later we’re gonna need some help, or…”

“We can’t just _stop_ though,” Stingmon interjected. “ _Someone’s_ gotta keep the area safe. If not us, who?”

“I know, Stingmon, I’m just _saying_ … we can’t just pretend we can keep going like this forever.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the four as they stood there.

“...We should get going,” Shelby finally said. “Are we still having movie night tonight?”

“What- oh, yeah, yeah…” Cris replied. Still feeling like death, she was distracted. “You guys should come over about six… we’ll have everything ready.”

“We have booze,” Stingmon contributed. “But none for Cris.”

He hugged his Tamer closer, affectionately, and she didn’t protest.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “She needs rest.”

“And hangover food.”

“And hangover food,” Stingmon repeated soothingly. “Come on, Cris.”

Once Stingmon was devolved and back in the beach bag, the four left the alley, praying they wouldn’t be seen - and hoping they hadn’t been heard. Shelby and Wizardmon didn’t have far to walk anyway. At some point Cris and Wormmon split from their friends and followed a different route, all the time completely unaware they were being watched from above.

*

*

“Thanks a _million_ , Stingmon…”

It was about nine in the morning, and since Cris’ parents were at work and her younger brother at school, the two had the house to themselves. The TV was on, but neither of the pair were really watching the later half of the breakfast talk show that aired - mostly it was on as background noise. Cris had draped herself across a couch, and Stingmon handed her a fresh mug of tea, which she drank within the minute, and threw herself back down. He hoped she’d keep the drink down. The Digimon hadn’t been put through an _awful_ lot in all the times he’d cared for his drunk or hung-over tamer, but there had been times he’d had to hold back her hair while she knelt over the toilet, like the morning after she’d first tried absinthe. Today was a good day compared to that.

He settled next to Cris on the couch, and lifted her head up and settled her onto his lap. It was what humans her age did, he knew that much. They went out on the weekends and got wonderfully wasted. So, Stingmon never questioned her. She wouldn’t be eighteen forever, and she needed to make the most of her younger years - or get them out of her system. Besides, he was happy to care for her in her times of need because she was always there to clean _his_ wounds after a particularly nasty fight. There had been times when he’d needed to sleep it off, and she’d sat by him for hours. There had been times she hadn’t known whether he’d make it through the night or not, and of course, there was almost no one she could turn to for help. He knew being a Tamer was pretty stressful in itself.

“So you really _did_ forego the mixer again?” Stingmon enquired as Cris let out a fresh groan. 

__“Ehh… the usual,” she replied, fiddling briefly with one of her snakebite piercings._ _

__Stingmon grinned again. “What was it this time?”_ _

“Gin. Goes down easy, especially when you’re already blitzed. God… I could _murder_ a KFC right about now…”

He knew more than he let on already. Yes, he _knew_ he should keep away and let her live her own life and make her own mistakes, but seeing how fucked up she got after a glorious night out… every time she went out to drink in her year off so far, Stingmon was terrified she’d get hurt. She couldn’t look after herself after a couple of hours, and her friends were no better. So he’d taken to flittering between rooftops in the dead of night, her stalking shadow, watching her. And if any harm were to befall her, he could be at her side in an instant. And if she were to bring back a man…

__He decided not to think about that particular possibility. “Hey Cris, you know what today is, right?”_ _

__She opened her eyes and looked straight up, studying his expressionless face. “What’s today?”_ _

The silence between them grew, she noticed Stingmon’s antennae drooped in disappointment. “Tell me you know what today is, _please_.”

__“Oh! No, I do! I do! It’s been a year, hasn’t it? Since we became partners?”_ _

The insect sighed in relief. A heavy gauntlet rested gently on her leg. “You _did_ remember!”

“As if I’d ever forget the day we met! How could you think so _low_ of me?”

The hand moved further up her thigh, and Stingmon began to shift out from under her. “If I thought so low of you, d’you think I’d do _this?_ ” he said playfully.

__He shifted on top of the girl until he straddled her, and then lowered his body close, and kissed her deeply. Cris groaned into her partner’s mouth, and her hands wrapped around his muscular waist, fingers sliding over dark skin and armour with the texture of candle wax. It was an awkward kiss, it always was, but they were so well-adjusted by now, it had been about eight months since they first fucked. His long, insect tongue played with Cris’, sending a shiver down her spine to the tips of her fingers. Her thighs parted as though on instinct as her cunt pounded in need. She ground her clothed hips upward into his, and he returned the action. Through her jeans she could feel him growing hard, a massive cock emerging from an armoured sheath and throbbing against her thigh._ _

He enjoyed the silky feel of her metal rings against his own lips - it was something he’d never known before she came along. Stingmon ran dangerous claws through his tamer’s long, fine hair – but carefully… if he broke even a single strand, he would invoke fury to rival that of a Mega level. He broke away, and with a massive claw, gently stroked her face, and he met her grey eyes. She _still_ had last night’s make-up on, and it barely stayed on now, she was all smudged eyebrows and eyeliner, but she was still stunning.

__He was tempted to rip every article of clothing from her body, actually. He pulled off her halter neck quickly, over her head, and she unbuttoned her jeans, and wriggled out of them, her perfect body now barely clothed. He was already entirely hard. Cris' eyes slipped downwards, to the insect’s enormous cock - black as his armour, ridges all along the thick shaft. She betrayed a small grin, winding her hands gently around the pounding organ. A groan was lost in Stingmon’s throat, far from audible. His need was almost paralysing. The Digimon continued to strip his Tamer’s underwear, and she was naked underneath him._ _

__Gauntlet-clad hands explored gargantuan tits with the same eagerness as ever. He was wearing gauntlets, but he could feel everything he touched, because they were a part of him. Warm hands grazed over hardening nipples - both pierced, of course, and Cris moaned her need. Her own hands travelled up Stingmon’s armoured back and her wrist brushed against a wing that felt almost wet to the touch._ _

__His smooth, sharp face nuzzled gently, lovingly against her breasts, finding her pert nipples with his mouth, that long tongue fondling metal and skin, flicking a sensitive piercing over and over sending nearly endless sparks of need through Cris’ body, and he sucked deeply. She moaned openly, hugging Stingmon’s head tighter to her, fingers flowing through smooth, thick, flame red hair. Any feelings of illness were a distant memory to her now. When she caressed a sensitive antenna, two fingers travelling down the length, Stingmon groaned around her nipple, and ground his need more aggressively against her folds._ _

__“Do it… please…” Cris whispered. As if to spur him on, she wound his antenna through her fingers again._ _

It worked. Stingmon broke away and lined himself up, and began to ease in as gently as he could. Cris cried out in agony - she was used to him by now, of course, but he was still huge. Stingmon hushed her with his own mouth, kissing deeply. He _always_ hurt her at first, and always would. But this would pass.

__He worked his way in slowly, and a minute or so later he hilted. She took him so well despite his size. He didn’t stop moving, pumping in and out slowly, never once looking away from his Tamer until he was sure it wasn’t pain written on her features, but pleasure. It wasn’t long before her whimpers of pain turned to needy moans, and he was certain. He kissed her again, neither coming up for air for several minutes and he fucked her faster, harder._ _

__He felt the girl tremble. She was close, he knew it. He held her body tight under him, almost possessively as he chased his own release, and she held onto his back and spikes as if for dear life. She wailed as he thrust into her sweet spot over and over, those ridges sliding in and out set her nerves on fire in a way no human could, he brought her to the edge so damn quickly…_ _

__She thrashed under his grip and he fucked her for all he was worth until she screamed his name, and then each cry was mindless and basic, she couldn’t form words as her orgasm wracked her whole body. She spasmed as pure gold spread through her body like wildfire, she could feel it in the tips of her fingers and toes, she’d pass out, she knew it._ _

__She was still screaming when the D-arc resting on the coffee table lit up, ringing eerily, as Stingmon reached his own climax. He howled as he emptied deep inside, and as his hips slowed, eventually halting altogether, Cris’ own body relaxed. They both lay there, breathing heavily as they came down together._ _

__“Y’know, I think I feel a little better after that…”_ _

At some point Stingmon rolled onto his back, and Cris lay on top of his armoured body, entirely at peace. She was so ready to fall asleep here, with him. At some point his softening cock slipped out of her passage, and his release - a _lot_ of release, leaked from between her thighs and onto the couch. 

__Stingmon smirked. “You’re gonna have to clean that up,” he said._ _

“Fuck _right_ off,” Cris said simply, not even opening her eyes. She smiled. 

“Do you _want_ your parents to see that?” 

__Now Cris opened her eyes, looking straight into his. “I’ll stick it in the wash! I’ll tell them I spilled Coke on it or something. I’m just gonna sleep right now though…”_ _

__Stingmon chuckled to himself. Cris could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but God damn if she didn’t make him smile. He held her even closer, her body enclosed in claws and armour._ _

__Her eyes closed again, and she rested on Stingmon’s chest. She felt his warmth, felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed with his lungs. She felt warm air wash over her torso as he breathed through his spiracles at the same time. She could never feel so relaxed._ _

__This moment really was perfect._ _

__“I love you,” Stingmon said quietly._ _

__Cris didn’t move. “I…”_ _

__“You don’t have to say anything until you’re ready.” He held her more tightly to him. “But I mean it. I’d do anything for you.”_ _

__But nothing was to be done that morning - that morning was for rest. And as far as either was concerned, this moment was perfect - even with sweat-soaked bodies held together and cum-stained couch covers under them. The pair slept through the morning._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing a lil drawing for every chapter of this fic in some fashion.
> 
> Here is this chapter's (SFW):
> 
> http://d.facdn.net/art/dunmerlover/1543747425/1543747425.dunmerlover_triad1.png


	2. The Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So most of the story I'm uploading here is built upon what I wrote before. But this is all new, and I like what I have here.
> 
> Be prepared for big sections of this story to be in the form of chatlogs (also new).

[ **11:34** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Etemon what’s uppp

[ **CrisOnACros** ] I don’t think anyone else is online.

[ **EteCetera** ] Hi Cris

[ **CrisOnACros** ] How are things?

[ **CrisOnACros** ] across the pond?

[ **CrisOnACros** ] It’s busy here. Are you and Andy busy?

 

[ **11:35** ]

 

[ **EteCetera** ] Very busy babe

[ **CrisOnACros** ] What’s going on, do you know?

[ **EteCetera** ] What do you mean?

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Digis are getting stronger. Over here anyhow.

[ **CrisOnACros** ] And we get so manu now…

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Many

 

As she lay on the grass, Cris felt her Rookie partner shift into a more comfortable position as he lazed on her chest. A single antenna brushed against her bare arm as she held her phone up in front of her face. With her free hand she hugged Wormmon closer to her own body.

 

[ **11:37** ]

 

[ **EteCetera** ] Could be related

[ **CrisOnACros** ] ??

[ **EteCetera** ] Strong Digis bio emerging

[ **EteCetera** ] If we get a ton of data at once it can happen on its own. By accident.

 

[ **11:38** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Where’s the data coming from though?

 

“Cris, will you put that down for _one minute?_ ”

Cris turned her head to the right and eyed Shelby through oversized sunglasses. “Maybe I’m talking to Etemon,” she said simply. Despite her words, she did as her friend asked and stowed the phone back in the pocket of her denim shorts. “He reckons the Digimon might be coming through by accident.”

Shelby’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. “How so?”

“He said ‘a lot of data at once’, but he hasn’t come back yet.”

All three fell silent for a moment as they lazed in the middle of the park, soaking up what sun they could before winter well and truly came.

“See, all this online stuff comes in handy,” Cris continued, not opening her eyes against the harsh light. Still holding onto a dozing Wormmon, she moved her free hand behind her head to prop herself up, fingers weaving into her downy hair. “I know you don’t do it but I bet you’re glad that I do.”

“Yeah Cris, I’m glad you get on with it.”

Wormmon squirmed on Cris’ chest.

“You’re meant to be a plushie, Wormmon,” Cris whispered. “You gotta keep still.”

“I wanna go for a walk,” he replied, looking up at his tamer with huge eyes, half-open from waking.

Cris scanned the park slowly, and it didn’t take her long to decide there might not be any harm in that. Not if they were careful. “Yeah, c’mon. See you in a minute Shelby.”

She stood, Wormmon in her arms, and saw the carefree wave of her friend’s hand as a response, out of the corner of her eye. Tamer and partner made their way across the field and into the cool shade of the woods that bordered the park. Cris walked far enough through the trees for the shouts of the kids in the park to fade into the distance, and aside from the calling of countless birds overhead, it was quiet. It was quite serene.

She set her partner on the damp carpet of decaying brown leaves, and as he transformed, the immediate area lit up with blinding white light - shadows from the surrounding trees were thrown in every direction but quickly it was over, and Stingmon’s tall form emerged. In an instant he was upon her, backing his tamer violently into the nearest tree, his lips upon hers, body entwining with hers.

He moaned as Cris’ hips ground into his, and one hand slid up her bare leg, coming to rest on a toned, denim-clad ass. His girl’s heavy, lustful breaths seemed deafening in the silence of the woods.

“I want you Cris…” he breathed, breaking away just long enough to say it. “Right now…”

“Mmhm…” was all she could get out. She couldn’t bring herself to break the kiss.

This wasn’t what she had in mind when she decided they should be careful… but it wasn’t like there was anyone around to hear them. As though hypnotised she ripped open the button and zipper on her shorts, wriggling out of them. They fell at her ankles and Stingmon’s leaking cock rubbed insistently against her panties. She had no idea what was making him quite this horny but she was only too happy to indulge him.

Cris opted to pull her underwear aside rather than take them off outright. Stingmon lifted her up with ease and as he lined himself up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pressed somewhat uncomfortably into his hard armour. The very tip of his fleshy dick pushed inside, and like always, Cris whimpered in pain. Stingmon stifled her cry with a deep kiss, brushing a claw against her cheek as tenderly as he could as he worked his way deeper in careful, shallow thrusts.

He broke away and gazed into her eyes, in that moment her blown pupils and flushed face drove him crazy - or maybe it was her stroking along his antenna that did that - he was only half way there and he needed more… Cris’ whimpers turned to moans as he filled her up, pressing so hard against her G-spot, every single move he made was bliss. Each ridge that slid inside made her forget about the pain as she stretched to accommodate each one.

“Kiss me…”

Stingmon obliged happily, still pushing deeper inside. He slid back out only to thrust in a little more each time, revelling in how wet his tamer was around him, how warm. Oh, she was made for him, and he for her. He was sure the hammering of their hearts could be heard for a mile around, but he didn’t care, this felt too good…

Then came the SNAP of a branch. Cris broke away, eyes wide and fearful. Her head spun around.

“Stop, stop…”

Stingmon finally hilted. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone there…” she whispered. “Let me down, _quick_.”

They stayed frozen in place, listening for any signs of movement. Though the world around them fell silent again, Cris still looked terrified as though fearing for her very life.

“It’s just a twig,” Stingmon tried to reassure her, still practically gasping for level breaths. “Just broke on its own, don’t worry…”

“This is crazy,” she said. “What if we get caught? Please, let me down. We gotta stop.”

“No… _please_ …” Stingmon begged. As if to bolster his plea, his cock throbbed deep inside of her, harder than ever. “Need this…”

“ _Let me down_ ,” she repeated, fixing her partner with that wide stare.

Cris stared him down for a few seconds before Stingmon finally gave in. He eased out, cock still pounding in protest and set his tamer on the ground. As she pulled her shorts back on, Stingmon turned around and let out a cry of frustration - so loud and fierce they were sure to be found. He sunk a fist hard into the nearest tree, snapping the thick trunk clean in two. Cris recoiled.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he whined, spinning back to face her. His heavy breaths, powerful shoulders rising and falling so dramatically, it was now less from lust and more from exertion. “You can’t leave me like this!”

A small battle waged inside the girl’s head as she tried to come up with the best solution to the problem. Her eyes didn’t leave his neglected manhood.

It didn’t take long - in a matter of seconds she was on her knees. “I won’t, don’t worry,” she said, as she took his still-throbbing cock in her hand and positioned herself. Her tongue darted out and licked at the very tip - Stingmon stiffened under the brief touch. “Just be quiet.”

“Yeah, okay, okay… just get on with it…”

Cris forewent any kind of foreplay, judging by the state of him right now - a trembling wreck of a Digimon - Stingmon didn’t need it. She took as much of his rigid length into her mouth as she possibly could - she was only human and could only take so much, but he didn’t seem to mind. She massaged the underside with her tongue as she sucked deeply, slowly. Precum flowed steadily onto her tongue, and it tasted _alien_.

“ _Cris_ …” the insect moaned.

One strong hand came to the back of her head, urging her further down onto him, and the other arm braced against the tree behind Cris. She hummed in protest at his words, unable to speak herself to tell him to shut up, but the vibrations only spurred him on more. With one hand she pumped what she couldn’t get down her throat, as her head bobbed on what she could, and it took all the Digimon’s energy to keep quiet.

He did well, but nothing in this world or his could’ve made him hold back the anguished moan as he came. He shuddered for a moment before spilling down his tamer’s throat. Cris swallowed everything. It tasted metallic, almost overwhelmingly metallic. There was so much to take but she took it all, too distracted with her task to notice her D-arc light up and vibrate as orgasm took her partner. Then again, she was used to that. He and the device came down together, as always, and she let him slide out of her mouth.

“Thanks…” he said, still breathless, strong, deep chest still heaving.

Cris wasn’t paying attention. As she got to her feet she wiggled her sore jaw from side to side - he was a lot to take. She looked down and saw her knees and shins were filthy… hopefully Shelby would believe her if she said she’d tripped over. After everything, she still froze up at every tiny sound that came from the trees.

“There’s no one here,” Stingmon said, doing his best to soothe her nerves. A massive hand rested on her shoulder and pulled her in, and trailed up and down her arm. “Just us.”

Her eyes dropped back down to his cock, now that he was soft his manhood eventually hid back in its hard sheath, and it was as if nothing had happened between them. “I know… but… we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s all okay, Cris… no one saw. C’mon, let’s have that walk.”

He held out his gauntlet, and Cris took his hand. Which is to say, she did the best she could and wrapped her hand around one massive claw. As they walked together, she felt the vibration at her hip for a second time. She reached into her pocket for her phone, and opened the inconspicuous app simply named 'DIGI'.

 

**12:12**

 

[ **EteCetera** ] Don’t know babe

[ **EteCetera** ] I could be wrong

[ **EteCetera** ] You know that

[ **EteCetera** ] It’s not an exact science, you get me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a drawing of Cris and Stingmon ~~that actually has nothing to do with the story, I just wanted to draw somethnig dramatic tbh~~ if you wanna see. 
> 
> http://d.facdn.net/art/dunmerlover/1531772032/1531772032.dunmerlover_let_the_sky_fall_2.jpg
> 
> I miss those boots... but they had a good life. Wore them to death. They literally fell apart.
> 
> And continuing the theme of an accompanying drawing per chapter, here's the "actual" drawing for this one (NSFW):
> 
> http://d.facdn.net/art/dunmerlover/1544392033/1544392033.dunmerlover_triad_2.png


	3. The Long Day

Scott’s gaze lowered to the clock at the corner of the screen he’d been staring at for the last hour. He’d lost track of time… again… the work day finished twenty minutes ago. He saved his work and shut down the computer, and stood from the worn swivel chair. He stuffed a filled binder in his backpack and picked up his Oyster card before crossing the dark, cramped and cluttered office. When out, Scott made his way along the short corridor and into the elevator.

Scott’s stomach lurched as the elevator took him silently and efficiently up to the ground floor, and when there, he left the massive modern building without a word to anyone. The evening was cold, but the walk to the nearest Tube station wasn’t far, and he walked quickly and stiffly, eventually descending into the Underground and when at his platform, he waited.

Scott liked his job enough, it was easy work and easy money given nobody knew their way around a computer like he did. But he was always glad to leave at the end of the day. He hated being around people. Vile, manipulative, _stupid_ people. And he didn’t need them - what could they get for him, or do, that he couldn’t get or do himself? He was smarter than all of them - combined - and he had the genius IQ to prove that. There was no reason to suffer their company any more than necessary, so he only tolerated his coworkers until he was able to get back home, back to his programming. That job was merely a short chapter in Scott’s life, and when he turned the page, he’d be making for somewhere very far from here.

And he’d never look back.

Yes, that’s where Scott’s life lay. Programming was what he lived for. When he was writing code, he was the most powerful man on the internet - he could _do_ anything. He had total control over his world. That was the thing - he could control computers in a way no human being could ever be controlled. That’s why people weren’t worthy of his trust, or his time.

Not long after he arrived, the train rolled into the station, and the young man joined a line of commuters waiting to take a seat inside. In his mind, the others weren’t even there as his thoughts filled up with one thing - his project. He still thought about it as he took a seat, putting as much distance between himself and anybody else as he could, and as the train took off at speed and took him home, Scott was lost in thought the whole time.

*

*

Scott was a brilliant coder. A little _too_ good for his own safety, it would seem, and he learned that one cold, gloomy night after work. He sat at home in a dark room lit by nothing except the sharp light from his monitor. He stared intently at the code and worked fervently, barely stopping to breathe for a full three hours.

Eventually the need to take a piss caught up with him. He was only human, of course. So he saved his work and backed it up - anyone who was stupid enough to not back up their hard work regularly quite frankly _deserved_ to have it disappear without a trace, was his opinion. His blond brows knitted together and his lip curled into a snarl of frustration when his machine didn’t respond. It ran sluggish, slower than it had ever been before, and there was no logical reason why it would be doing that - Scott kept his computers in peak condition and only moments ago it’d been working fine.

There was only one thing he could do - let the machine run, use the bathroom, get a fresh mug of coffee, and hope it blew over by the time he sat back down. And that’s just what he did.

Upon returning, steaming mug in hand, his heart sank even further when he came back to a room filled by a blue glow and a monitor showing the most incomprehensible error message he’d ever seen.

“What’s all this?” he asked aloud to the empty room in his usual monotone. He crossed the room, set the mug down and leaned in closer. The bluescreens kept on coming and coming and there was no sign of ending. What he was seeing made no sense, this wasn’t English he was looking at, it wasn’t _any_ language he could identify at a glance.

Scott’s work was going to be delayed by _hours_.

“FUCK!” he yelled into the darkness, and stamped one foot hard on the floor in frustration.

He didn’t know yet whether he could fix what had gone wrong, there was no way of knowing until he booted the machine up again. What had caused this? What had he done wrong? Sure, he made mistakes here and there but they never affected his machine quite this badly. Would he have to buy a new one? He _just_ didn’t have the money for that this month.

And then the whole world went black. Scott felt his entire body crumble into a speck, infinitely small, yet before he could register any real pain or discomfort, he passed out from the sheer pressure. Time passed – though he was unconscious, he was still aware that this much time had passed – and hours later, he awoke.

Scott’s head spun, and he opened his eyes, dazed and disoriented. Whatever that was… it had happened far too fast to truly register, and it was over as quickly as it started. When the world came back into focus, his first thought was that he was hallucinating. He didn’t know why, it was just the most logical explanation at the time.

He wasn’t in his bedroom any more. He was in a vast yellow meadow stretching as far as the eye could see on one side, on the other overlooking a sparkling, blinding ocean, with an evening sun blazing overhead. Yellow petals, tiny seeds and winding blades of grass danced around in the light breeze, as though marionettes manipulated by a more intelligent power. It was so hot – far hotter than it ever got in London. Some asshole at work must’ve slipped something in his coffee - there was no other explanation right now. And this must be part of the drug trip, Scott thought. It wasn’t an uncomfortable temperature, as that gentle breeze he was imagining, that rippled through the grass around him and tickled his toes, it kept him pleasantly cool.

He neither scared of this place, nor curious to explore it. That could be dangerous – God only knew where in reality he’d end up. He would lie here, and wait until his trip ended.

So he waited. He lay in the shade, in the alcove of a gigantic tree rooted in the middle of the meadow. He let his mind wander in many directions, mostly thinking of programming, eyes closed against the still-oppressive glare of the sun.

Hours passed, and he was still in that meadow. He didn’t feel _any different_. Nothing was different save for the _setting of the fucking sun_. Was he really hallucinating? Now he was more doubtful about that than ever. What was this place? And _how the fuck did he get here?_

“Maybe I died,” he said simply to himself.

A sudden death. Of what cause, he had no idea, but his GP had been nagging him for a while about caffeine… maybe it was that. Maybe that feeling of pressure, maybe that was how it felt to die and pass over. And now he was in heaven. An atheist, through and through, Scott looked down his nose and laughed at anyone who believed in a heaven or a hell, or otherwise, but what else could it be? It was time to be open-minded about that, it would seem… and that meant he had to explore this mysterious place.

*

*

The train slowed to a halt at Scott’s home stop, and among a handful of others, he left and again steeled himself against the cold evening air. Every breath collected around him as a thick vapour as he walked the ten or so minutes to his apartment block. Soon he’d be back with the only things that mattered.

As though greeting him one after the other, the foyer lights switched on as he pushed open the door to the building. He took the lift up to the very top floor, crossed the hallway and pressed a fob key against the lock on his own apartment door. He turned the handle and let himself in. The lights were on, as he expected, and no sooner had he shrugged off his jacket and set down his backpack before a set of strong arms wrapped themselves around him, and feathers - so many bright white feathers tickled his face and neck as so many wings encased him.

“Hi Angemon,” Scott turned inside his warm, feathery cage and put his arms around his partner’s middle. “How was your day?”

“Boring without you,” Angemon said simply.

“I’ve told you already, go back to the Digital World if you’re bored,” Scott said, looking blankly up at where he knew Angemon’s eyes to be under his helm. 

Quickly he pushed himself away and made for the kitchen. “Whatever… have you eaten?”

He looked up just long enough to see his Digimon shake his head. “I’ll get something going,” he continued, opening the freezer, kneeling, and pulling out whatever took his fancy. “Pie… chips… peas… pie and chips with peas. Is that okay?”

“It’s great, Scott. I’ll help you.”

The Tamer chucked a couple of frozen, icy boxes and bags at the approaching angel. “Thanks. I think there’s some beans in the cupboard too.”

He shut the freezer door and stood up. “I’m working on my project tonight,” he said. “Don’t wait up.”

There was a finality in his voice when he said it. Angemon looked up. He set the frozen food down on a counter.

“Is that okay?” Scott asked, raising his eyebrows curiously.

Angemon closed the distance between them. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

The Digimon ran gloved knuckles lightly over his Tamer’s acne-scarred cheek. “Do what you need to do. Just… get _some_ sleep tonight. Don’t make yourself late for work again.”

He leaned in for a long and deep kiss, fingers roving through Scott’s bleached blond hair.

Scott pulled away. His face was noticeably flushed. “Thanks Angemon. I’m glad you’re finally on my side.”

It had taken a long, _long_ time, and an awful lot of reprogramming to get the Digimon to come around to it. And even when he had, Angemon had more moments of doubt than Scott was comfortable with. And even when _those_ had been programmed out of his data, Angemon worried about _him_. Worried that Scott wasn’t getting enough sleep. That he was working too hard, and too long into the night. That he hadn’t been outside in weeks. Sometimes Scott thought about reprogramming Angemon _again_ and ironing out _those_ kinks, but in a way he thought it endearing. He liked knowing Angemon cared about him.

Scott smiled to himself as he watched his partner search through the cupboard for a can of beans. He was happy with the way everything was going. His project was going well, that was the most important thing. It had been a couple of years now, but Scott was still amazed he had a boyfriend - he hated people, but a Digimon… Digimon were different. They were malleable, as he’d proved.

Yes, Scott thought to himself... he really couldn't complain about a thing.


	4. The Family Dinner

Since the team took care of the last bio-emergence, a month or so had passed. Data-type Digimon pushed through, more and more of them each week, more than they’d ever handled before. Only by some miracle it would seem had they managed it all with no injury to anyone and almost no damage to the city around them. Each time, the Datas had been lost and confused, and much more powerful than any foe the Tamers and their Digimon had faced in the real world.

They were all agreed they were on the verge of losing control over the whole situation. Eventually they’d have to get help from _somewhere_. Of course, they’d heard stories of places they could go, and people who could be contacted - namely, some government bodies. If they had to go that route, the gang was all for it. But Cris… it turned out she was more reluctant than she let on. In the quiet nights, she’d told her Digimon bedfellow that much. Her reluctance was more to do with their relationship. To them it felt so right… but what they were doing was somehow wrong and Cris knew it. She wondered what said government body would have to say about it - if they were to find out.

*

*

The family sat for dinner around a circular table large enough to fit all five people. On one side Cris sat, and ten year-old Jack took a seat next to his big sister. Opposite them sat their mother and father, who watched Stingmon move about the kitchen as he dished out the meal. They might’ve looked back on a night like that and wondered why the sight of an insectoid preparing their dinner didn’t faze any of them, but they were so used to him being there by then.

They didn’t think they’d _ever_ get used to this, to him… but somewhere along the way they’d surprised themselves.

Five plates were set down, and Stingmon took his seat between Cris and her mother. Liz looked up at the Digimon’s armoured face and felt herself shrink next to him. Despite her obvious initial reluctance to let him stay in her home, she actually wasn’t complaining about all the help he offered around the house. Of course, the… thing… he went back to his land fairly often but all the time he spent stuck inside these walls must’ve bored him out of his mind. He had to keep himself busy somehow.

She knew that Cris took him out as often as she could, to parks or to the woods - in his smaller form. Soon after he came to stay Cris had picked up a useful hint on some message board or another and carried him around like he was a novelty backpack or a plushie. It got him out the house, and Liz guessed it was one of those things that made his stay in their home tolerable.

He sat there now, on a chair that he was a little too big for, huddled in next to his ‘Tamer’... eating chicken casserole off a fork that was too small for him. She watched him eat with a mouth hidden somewhere behind that shiny green armouring, one she couldn’t see. Every now and then, a long grey tongue poked out, lapping at the fork. He still repulsed her, no matter what he’d done for her. In fact, he downright terrified her. Aaron, too. They _never_ could tell what he was thinking... or how he was feeling... because that face of his had no expression. He always stood so still.

They hated that creature _so fucking much_.

They remembered that day like it was yesterday - the way Cris, only seventeen at the time, sidled in so _sheepishly_ after coming back from what she promised was a weekend camping retreat. With Shelby, and a couple of her friends, she’d said. They’d grilled Shelby’s mother about it when the two kids brought it up, of course, and she’d vouched for her daughter. Looking back on it now she was probably in on it too, she knew Shelby had her own Digimon partner and she knew Cris knew too. 

Looking back on it now, they were probably a little _too_ quick to push their own daughter onto Shelby… they always saw her as such a nice girl, never drank, never did anything she wasn’t supposed to. They’d hoped that might rub off on Cris. After all, she was still studying for her A-levels at the time, and they wanted her to do as well as they knew she could. She was such a smart girl.

What the girls had lied about was _where_ they were going that weekend. Liz and Aaron had taken the kids to the New Forest so many times they probably knew their way around the campsites better than their own city.

*

*

“Hey Mum… hey Dad.”

Cris didn’t look at her parents as she set down everything except the one bag, the neon pink beach bag slung over her shoulder by its longest strap.

“Cristina…” Liz began. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you and Dad come outside for a minute?” Cris asked, and it was clear she was afraid of something.

Her father remained stoic as ever until she said that, and then he squared up aggressively. “Why? What have you done?” he accused.

“Just come, please.”

Cris gestured for her parents to follow as she led them, not out the front door but through the kitchen to the back, and ignored their pressing for explanations for the time being. Only when all three stood in the darkness of the garden, only lit barely by a waxing moon above, did she speak again.

“Okay… I have to tell you something important,” Cris began. “I’ll tell you everything, but you _have_ to let me get through it _all_ before-”

“What the _fuck have you done?_ ” Aaron growled. He advanced, snarling, and had Cris never been on the receiving end of this before, she might have been frightened.

“Nothing! I haven’t done _anything!_ ” the girl assured. She was so careful to keep her voice down, they thought in retrospect. “I’m not in _any_ trouble, I promise you. _Nothing’s_ wrong.”

“Then _what_ is this about, Cristina?” Liz asked again.

“I need to discuss an… I need to discuss _something_ … with you,” Cris said. “Something which may or may not be put into action… depending on whether you guys say yes or no. But I need to explain it all before you say anything. If I can’t get through it all in one go, I don’t think it’s gonna come out right.”

Liz and Aaron stayed silent, hand squeezing hand in fearful anticipation of the worst. What worst they were anticipating, they didn’t know. But they knew, whatever it was, they could trust Cris to fuck it up big time. 

“I spent the weekend with Shelby,” she began. “But we weren’t camping. Well... Not in the New Forest. We went on a different trip. See, Shelby’s had had a… _hobby_ … for a while now. It means she needs to go on this trip every once in a while. I knew about it right from the start. I never got involved, but she didn’t keep it from me, not ever. But this weekend, I knew she was taking that trip again. And I asked to come. And... she said I could.

“We went to a place you won’t have heard of. Somewhere _I_ hadn’t heard of before Shelby told me all this stuff. You need to believe me... when I say she took me to the digital side. The world of our computers. The world of... our phones. The world of everything wireless. It’s a place they call the Digital World.”

Cris’ parents stared, and finally, they exchanged looks of sheer horror. That was it. This was the worst. Not any of the worsts they’d been imagining, but it was definitely the worst of the worst. She hadn’t gambled herself into debt, no. She hadn’t been trafficked, no. For whatever reason, Cris had gone completely and utterly insane. And in that moment, they blamed drugs that they had never seen their daughter take.

“You’re...” Her father began, that animalistic rage returning familiarly to his weathered face. “You’re on drugs aren’t you... after EVERYTHING WE’VE TAUGHT YOU!”

“Dad, you told me you were gonna _listen!_ ” Cris hushed, _still_ wanting to keep quiet. “I’m _not_ on drugs! I’ve _never_ taken drugs and I never would!”

“Aaron, we promised her we’d listen!”

“YOU’RE A LIAR!” Aaron shouted, ignoring his wife. He advanced menacingly on Cris, who didn’t react. “WHAT DID YOU TAKE, YOU LYING BITCH?”

“I’m not lying!” Cris reasoned, immovable, louder now. So much for keeping quiet, she thought. “Please, you have to _listen_ to me!”

Cris knew she was in no danger, her father just got angry a lot. But the Rookie hiding away in that one bag she still clung onto, he didn’t. At the yelling he began to fight against his confines, struggling against the nylon to escape.

“Cris, let me out, now!” an obviously male called out. “I just want to know you’re okay, just let me out!”

The two parents did a double take. That was a real voice coming from in there.... a _real fucking voice_.

“Cristina, what on _earth_ is in that bag?” Liz cried. “What’s going on?”

“Let’s get inside,” the daughter said, rushing across the small garden through the back door. Her parents followed, more terrified than ever despite the squirming bag having subsided now that its surroundings were more or less peaceful again.

“Where was I at...” Cris struggled for a moment to remember her place in the story. “Oh yeah... The Digital World. I went there with Shelby and we came back today. Her hobby is... she’s friends with- no, it’s something _more_ than that... but that’s not important right now... she’s friends with a… local of the Digital World.”

Cris held up that pink bag as though explaining, though by the look on her parents’ faces, just doing that wasn’t enough.

“The locals are called Digimon. That’s short for Digital Monsters. Beings made up of data. Shelby’s friend lives with her here, but sometimes her friend has to go home. I already knew the friend, and this weekend... I wanted to go see the place he called home… for myself. Just to _see it_. And I met more of the Digimon who live there.”

Cris finally unzipped the beach bag. “I met one Digimon in particular. Meet Wormmon. Uh… Wormmon? You can come out now.”

The Rookie, slowly, timidly, poked his head out of the beach bag.

*

Liz couldn’t remember much after the shock of seeing that thing for the first time, but Cris started to babble on about a ‘duty’ she had to take on. She talked about a ‘bond’ between her and the creature. She’d gotten some sort of toy and felt the need to show it to both of them - it was important to her but utterly meaningless to them. She said she was a ‘tamer’ now, whatever _that_ was supposed to mean.

And after all the begging for her mother to stop screaming (surprisingly her father had just been far too stunned to yell), Cris had the gall to ask if ‘Wormmon’ could stay for a while. Maybe the shock messed with their heads, but the two of them agreed. Looking back on it, they figured it was the only thing they _could_ do now that she’d actually brought a real live monster home with her. No turning back, he was _their_ problem now, and so they had to cover it up.

Besides… Cris wouldn’t take no for an answer.

*

*

And now the entity still sat there with them, just about a year later. Liz had mixed reactions to the news that the Digimon could - and would - change form at will, and would spend most of his time in his anthropomorphic form. Her heart sank as she first set eyes on the Champion - he was so tall... barely able to stand up under their roof. He’d take up so much space!

But at the same time, Liz knew she could make him useful. For for the first four months or so, having Stingmon in the house was pretty great for everyone. He’d never miss an opportunity to help Liz cook, do laundry, clean, anything he could do. He revealed himself to be rather domesticated. And little Jack _adored_ Stingmon. He was utterly fascinated by that enormous, spiky, weapon-laden beast. When the sun set and neither of them would be seen, Stingmon would play football with him under the moonlight. Maybe it was because of this that Jack finally made the school team. Stingmon seemed to get on with everyone.

It would seem he got along a little _too_ well with some. Cris had warned her parents that the two of them would practise conditioning together, but even that didn’t explain the moaning and groaning they heard from outside her bedroom those four months in. They knew _exactly_ what they heard, right from the start, but they didn’t _dare_ question her about it. Why would they ever do _that?_ If they talked to her about it, their fears would be confirmed. That would make the situation real, and this way they could pretend this monster _wasn’t_ screwing their daughter.

And if that wasn’t enough motivation to bury the thought away, deep in some forgotten place in their heads, they didn’t _dare_ stand up to the Digimon. How easily could he snap a human over his knee? They didn’t dare question him when he terrified them as much as he did.

Aaron was more than a little suspicious that Cris had the insect ready to attack him at a moment’s notice. If ever he raised his voice to her, if he ever squared up to her like he did - not dangerous, but admittedly not how he wanted to be to her... the monster would be there, around every doorway, around every corner, and even though there was never any expression on his face, Aaron could tell the gesture was meant as a threat. It achieved exactly what Cris wanted it to - he’d stop shouting at her after that, for the time being… and it left him feeling utterly, inescapably powerless. Stifled. Ignored. Emasculated.

Aaron had even considered killing the Digimon when he devolved into his smaller form. On occasion he would become Wormmon, and stay that way while he slept... to regain energy, if he recalled correctly. He could strike then - maybe he wouldn’t be as strong as when he was Stingmon.

But even months after he first thought of it, it was still just a wild dream. Cris would never forgive him. She loved the thing so much. Though they wouldn’t accept it, they were well aware that there was a bond between them. They couldn’t understand the Tamer-partner bond for themselves, but imagined it was similar to the bond one had to their own flesh and blood. That was something they couldn’t let themselves get in the way of.

So, the insect stayed with them indefinitely, fucking their eighteen year-old daughter, until the two of them decided it was time for him to move on, which showed no God damn sign of happening any time soon. Both Cris’ parents just hoped, with _all their energy_ , that Stingmon’s next fight would be too much for him. Then he wouldn’t darken their door again.

“Thank you so much Liz,” Stingmon said, snapping both parents out of their reveries. “That was delicious.”

Liz suppressed a scowl. “Oh, you’re very welcome,” she replied.

Now Jack was the only one still eating, and Stingmon was already on his feet and clearing up the used crockery and cutlery. He wasn’t wearing his gauntlets. This was always strange for all the family to see, even Cris. Underneath the massive black, clawed gauntlets, his hands were very much the same as those of a human, but clawed. He had huge, shiny, wrinkled burns covering the upper side of both his forearms - Cris knew this was where his Spiking Strike came from, but he needed his gauntlets to get them to work. At the upper wrist was a sagging invagination, and an inside part of his gauntlets filled them to allow his energy beams to reach the outside world.

Jack had cleaned his plate now, and left to scrub down his football shoes in the back garden. Cris excused herself too. She left, undoubtedly getting ready to go see Shelby later on. Stingmon would be staying home - sometimes he didn’t go with her. As much as Cris’ parents despised him being there, at least he wouldn’t be anywhere near their daughter... and his hands would be off her for a few hours.

Now the only ones still seated, Liz and Aaron looked across the table at one another. They didn’t talk about it any more. They just tried not to think about it, it was all they _could_ do. They held hands across the table for God only knew how long. All they could do was try and get on with their lives until fate smiled more kindly on their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had to bring a Digimon home I think I'd just straight up tell my parents. I couldn't be bothered with all the hiding they do in the show tbh


	5. The King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT:
> 
> I took a lot out of this chapter and now it's really short, and it ends really abruptly because how it ends isn't how it used to end. It's not really a chapter any more, it's more or less a throwaway thing but I REALLY wanted to keep what I have here in the story because I wanted to talk about Digimon biology.
> 
> It goes much less into the "operations" of the Dark Masters but that's something I:  
> \- Never got far enough into the original upload to get into explaining anyway  
> \- Am leaving out this time around anyway
> 
> So this is just a little headcanon Digimon biology ~~I do the headcanon thing a lot, I'm really sorry I can't help it~~

It was a warm, humid night in the Digital World, and a storm was brewing in the distance. Piedmon anticipated the imminent rain as he gazed out of the enormous window, white-gloved hands resting gently on a pristine window ledge. He was, of course, waiting for someone.

The first drops of rain spattered against the window, trickling down timidly. Piedmon smiled to himself. He had estimated the start of the rainfall by less than half a minute. Such was his age, such was his connection to the Digital World - such was the sheer volume of data he had amassed over his three-hundred and sixty-three decades of life, he was quite so in-tune with his kingdom. Maybe another fifty decades and he could get that prediction down to the second. His gaze dropped to the window, to the streaks of water racing each other down the glass. Maybe then could he tell, with exact precision, which of these would reach the ledge first.

A knock on the door, many dozens of metres across the formidable expanse of the room. It echoed around several times before the walls began to instead echo Piedmon’s own voice.

“You may enter,” he called.

With an anguished creak, the door slowly opened and a smaller figure entered the room. Myotismon lowered his hood, and looked humbly up at Piedmon.

“Good evening Myotismon,” PIedmon said, granting the vampire only the smallest of smiles.

“Evening, m’lord,” Myotismon greeted just as humbly, yet he lowered his façade just enough to return the smile. There was more warmth in his.

“Did you manage to obtain it?”

“Yes, m’lord.” Myotismon pulled from his coat a small purple disk, and handed it to his master.

“Thank you,” Piedmon said.

“Devimon said this would be the last one for five weeks. He needs more time.”

“We can wait that long.”

Piedmon bent down and rewarded Myotismon with a gentle kiss on the lips. “You may wait for me in my chambers,” he said.

The vampire’s heart pounded with excitement, but he retained his composure. “Thank you, m’lord.”

Myotismon bowed, and turned and left the room. Piedmon, however, made his way to one of the doors on the other side of the room, his steps echoing as though a hundred walked along with him. Before he left the expansive room, the jester allowed himself a glance over to where his lover had come from, and left, and he smiled to himself as he wondered just how long he could keep Myotismon waiting up there. He knew he'd wait for weeks if he had to.

But he wouldn't, not tonight. Piedmon would go to him, but for now, he had work to do.


	6. The Hardest Fight

Cris’ phone buzzed once on the bedside table, abruptly, and she woke with a start. No longer dozing after her shift at the bar, she reached out to check the message. DIGI, it turned out. She’d muted the group chat for an hour and now her American friends were awake, things were getting active.

Had she really slept for an hour already? The sky outside was darkening rapidly so she must’ve done. Against her back her big spoon still slept soundly. He was exhausted after today’s fight, and he needed to recover.

Taking care not to disturb Stingmon, Cris disentangled herself from his strong arms and massive claws, and stood up from the bed. She crossed the room and took her underwear off a footstool, and dressed herself somewhat. She looked out the window at the dying day. From here, she could see right down the hill into the high street. In the near distance was the spire of the cathedral. Her phone buzzed again.

 

[ **17:05** ]

[ **TidalWave66** ] Where’s @Cris?

[ **TidalWave66** ] Is Cris here? I think Cris has died…

[[ **GeneralKMS** ] :cry:

[ **TidalWave66** ] Rip

[ **GeneralKMS** ] RIP

[ **TidalWave66** ] So young…

 

[ **17:06** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] I’m here! I had work sorry I was tired

[ **TidalWave66** ] IT LIVES!

[ **TidalWave66** ] How’s Stingmon?

 

[ **17:07** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Sleeping

[ **CrisOnACros** ] He looks so cute rn. Wanna see a pic?

[ **GeneralKMS** ] Is his dick out?

[ **CrisOnACros** ] No

[ **GeneralKMS** ] Then no. /s

 

Cris chuckled to herself. Her grey eyes flicked up from the small screen to her Digimon, and affection overwhelmed her as she watched him sleep. His strong chest rose and fell slowly as he dozed. She raised her phone and took a photo - for her own benefit. It was important to have something to remember these times. What they had - whatever it _was_ they had, couldn’t last. The day they parted was coming closer and closer.

 

[ **17:10** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Real talk for a moment. Can I take Stingmon to uni with me?

[ **GeneralKMS** ] LOLNOPE

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Thought you’d say that.

[ **CrisOnACros** ] Why not?

[ **GeneralKMS** ] In all seriousness, I’ve been there. Cris. You share a building with people you don’t know. You might share a room. Roommates come in your room whenever they want, it’s not like living at home. You won’t be able to hide him there. Even if you could it wouldn’t be fair on him.

[ **EteCetera** ] Sorry Cris

 

[ **17:11** ]

 

[ **TidalWave66** ] Besides,

[ **TidalWave66** ] What do you want to tell your roommates when you tell them you’re “single” but don’t fuck anybody?

[ **TidalWave66** ] And what do you do when they hear you fucking somebody? That doesn’t come out of your room?

[ **GeneralKMS** ] I’m glad I met WarGreymon AFTER I finished college.

 

[ **17:12** ]

 

[ **CrisOnACros** ] That means I don’t even have another year with him

 

Cris threw her phone aside and sighed as she dressed herself fully. Looking out the window, there was barely any light in the sky at all now, and the landscape was coming to life as lights appeared in homes distant and near, and street lamps illuminated everything. It really was beautiful. She’d miss Winchester more than anything.

The girl sat back down on the bed next to her partner. A smaller, delicate hand rested on top of one massive black gauntlet. Cris wondered how _he_ would feel when that day came. Stingmon always was into it more than Cris - and she was decidedly into it. But _he_ was in love.

Cris knew she wasn’t the first tamer to get involved with her Digimon like this. Tamers were always there, behind the scenes. They were all over the world. In England alone, there may have even been hundreds. Cris had discussed the topic at length with other tamers - and Digimon - on DIGI and a couple of message boards, and the consensus was that Digimon were more open to those kinds of relationships than their tamers were. Where a tamer might see restrictions, Digimon saw things differently, and it wasn’t uncommon for a partner Digimon to develop feelings their tamer just couldn’t return. Digimon had evolved to consider all situations, because they used sex as a way of surviving in their world. It wasn’t about procreating for them. Barriers of sex, age and species didn’t seem to matter at all to any Digimon.

At some point the girl decided there wasn’t much she could do right now. She was going to university, and that was that. All she could do now was make the most of the time they had left, so she laid herself back down on the bed with her back pressed against the insect’s chest. With some effort, she hauled Stingmon’s heavy arm over her body so they were fully spooning again, and hugged him tight.

Barely ten minutes passed before Cris saw the glow, bright enough she didn’t even have to open her eyes. At the end of the dresser, her D-ark lit up in warning. It buzzed urgently.

“ _Another_ one?” she whispered, her heart sinking like a stone in a river. This was unheard of. Back when they first started, it was rare if they had to fight every week. Two in the same _day_ … this was new, this was frightening.

Stingmon sprang out of bed in an instant, responding to his connection to the device. If he was sleeping off an injury, he hid it well. If he was as concerned as Cris, he hid that well, too. She sat herself up but didn’t move.

“C’mon, let’s go,” he said. He sounded groggy, it was obvious he was still tired.

“Stingmon, you can’t…” Cris began. “You need to rest up, you only just took care of Aquilamon-”

“And I loaded his data, I’m more powerful now,” Stingmon reminded her. His wings were buzzing again, he got like this when he was agitated, raring for the fight. “We _have_ to do this.”

“But…”

“Wizardmon can’t do it on his own, you know that. Cris…”

The Digimon turned and knelt down before his tamer. Cris wouldn’t quite meet his eye, so he lifted a claw under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.

“I’m fine, I promise,” he said. “Now come. We can’t waste any time.”

*

*

They seemed to be no closer to their target after twenty minutes of searching. Cris jogged aimlessly through quiet streets and across barren roads, looking and listening for any sign of trouble. Confined to a beach bag slung over Cris’ shoulder and jostled with her every move, Wormmon struggled to find his bearings.

“Can’t you smell them anywhere?” Cris cried in frustration.

“No, I can’t!” he snapped from inside the bag. “And I don’t need any pressure right now! It feels like the scent is coming from two directions, I can’t tell where we need to go!”

A bolt of lighting in the near distance lit up the velvet sky. Cris nodded to herself.

“I think we’ve found them,” she said, and sprinted towards the fray.

As they approached, a menacing roar ripped through the air and the thick smell of electricity hanging heavy like smoke in a house fire made Cris retch. She coughed on her own saliva as Wormmon leaped out of the beach bag. He Digivolved before he touched the ground, and as soon as he did, Stingmon sprang back up into the air, flying from rooftop to rooftop until he dived into a parking lot. Cris followed as fast as her legs would take her.

When she turned into the open space, Cris couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. A part of her wished she was only imagining it. Whatever it was, it was enormous - two paws and two talons crossed the lot and flattened parked cars to pancakes under its weight as it swatted at Stingmon dodging every swipe in the air. Bolts of electricity from Wizardmon’s staff barely fazed it.

“Wizardmon!” Cris gasped. She struggled for air. “What _is_ that?”

“Gryphonmon!” Wizardmon said. Another burst of lightning lit up his face and betrayed how afraid he really was. “Data type. This one’s a Mega level, guys!”

Stingmon narrowly avoided a set of razor sharp talons slicing him across the middle. “We’ve never fought a Mega before, Wizardmon!”

“I know Stingmon, just… concentrate!”

Still gasping for breath, Cris dragged herself over to where Shelby stood frozen with dread.

“D’you think they can handle a Mega?” the blond asked, not taking her eyes off her partner. It was so dark, she could barely see him flit about up there.

“We’ve got to trust them… right?” Shelby said in return. “As long as we’ve got Stingmon we’ve got an advant- oh, shit.”

Cris winced as those claws finally caught up to her Digimon, taking him out of the sky and sending him crashing to the ground with a nasty thud. She advanced as the insect sprang to his feet. He looked more or less unharmed.

“Get back in there Stingmon, you can do it!” Cris encouraged. “You’re doing great!”

He nodded once in her direction, and suddenly the glow of his energy beams illuminated the area. It was a mess - broken glass and scraps of metal littered the ground. Gryphonmon reared, picked up the nearest car like it was nothing and hurled the SUV at Stingmon. He dived out of the way and the almighty crash as the vehicle hit the ground and skidded to a halt made Cris cringe.

Wizardmon assumed a fighting stance, and raised his staff. “Electro Squall!” he cried.

White energy burst from his staff, casting tall black shadows on their surroundings and making a beeline for the gigantic bird, but as it pounded into him, the Digimon barely flinched. Now Wizardmon had caught his attention, Gryphonmon turned his metal face towards him and actually laughed.

Wizardmon’s large eyes widened in shock. Never in all his seven decades had an opponent actually _laughed_ at him.

Gryphonmon leaped at the sorcerer, catching him in his solid beak. He tossed his captive aside as hard as he could and he slammed into a far wall. He didn’t get up.

“Wizardmon!” Shelby cried, running to where her partner lay, visibly trembling. “Come on, wake up mate!” she cried. She shook the small form as hard as she could while still being gentle. Still no response. “Wizardmon, get up! Don’t be hurt, _please!_ ”

Gryphonmon turned to Stingmon, and roared. It was an apocalyptic noise that reverberated in every bone and probably alerted every single person in the city. Cris clapped her hands over her ears and waited it out, watching.

Stingmon readied himself to fight, energy beams still out and glowing. He dived in without another thought.

“Spiking Strike!” he roared, and swung his blades at Gryphonmon’s shins.

The Mega took the blow with ease. Deep slashes poured dark blood like a grotesque water feature, cut down to the very bone on one leg, but he still stood as though he only had papercuts. The insect jumped back quickly as Gryphonmon swiped at him in anger. Blood spattered from his wounds as he moved, and the gang knew that along with the destruction of so many cars, all this would be impossible to explain in the morning.

“Solo Roar!” the Mega growled. Rings of energy shot towards Stingmon and he staggered back, head held in his hands. Every synapse in the Digimon’s brain ignited at once, and he collapsed to the ground, convulsing uncontrollably.

“Stingmon!” Cris screamed. She watched her Digimon- her lover, writhe in agony. She made to go to him, the sight made her feel sick but she couldn’t just turn away. She had to help him _somehow_.

She didn’t see the second car come soaring towards them both, and it was pure luck that it missed them by mere inches and collided with another, and when she looked over her shoulder the bird lunged. He swiped the insect aside with his claws, watching with pleasure as he rolled halfway across the cold ground, slamming against the same bricks as Wizardmon, lying only feet away.

“STINGMON!”

The Champion used the last of his energy to roll over onto his back. He tried to sit up. He wouldn’t give up. Cris saw data on his shoulder and abdomen flicker like a television screen before her eyes. He couldn’t take any more. She rushed to his side and knelt, whole body shaking, as Gryphonmon stalked closer, looming over the two of them, eyes alight with malice. He was hungry for blood and data.

“Cris…”

Stingmon tried to stand up, but Gryphonmon’s attack had taken the last of his strength. He was gryphon food, and they both knew it.

“Don’t talk, save your energy, just…” Cris whispered. The tears that fell from her eyes splashed onto his armour. “Try and get up, I’m gonna get you out of here…”

The tamer sobbed openly as she pulled on her Digimon’s arm, she tried as hard as she could to move him but he was far too heavy, and far too weak to help. She couldn’t see through the tears and with Gryphonmon ready to kill and load, maybe that was for the best.

“Stingmon… I can’t lose you…”

“Get OUT OF HERE CRIS!” Stingmon gasped. “SAVE YOURSELF!”

It seemed to take an age for Gryphonmon to raise his talons for the kill, and still Cris tried in vain to pull her lover out of danger. He’d take them both, this was it, they were both gryphon food.

They were finished.

 **CRUNCH**.

The ground itself shook as a massive figure landed on the ground, right between Cris and the Mega. Cris wiped away her tears just to see what was happening - it all happened so fast she had no idea _what_ was happening. The tarmac under the black figure had cracked with the force of his landing. She saw a long, thick, muscular grey tail, segmented, which her gaze followed up to a perfect, toned, leather-clad ass. The figure stood - he was as tall as Stingmon, and he was dressed in black. The last thing Cris noticed was a shock of blond hair as pale as her own before the figure assumed a fighting stance and whipped out a pair of berenjenas.

“Double Impact!” the Digimon shouted in a husky voice.

The gunshots were deafening. They brought Cris back from her stupour and made her jump nearly out of her own skin, but she could barely hear a thing over the ringing in her ears. Gryphonmon roared in pain and staggered back as the bullets hit him in the chest. The dark Digimon sheathed his weapons, and dived in, flexing his clawed hands.

“DARKNESS CLAW!”

The newcomer impaled Gryphonmon’s chest with those menacing claws. The foe burst into data, which the newcomer loaded greedily. When the last byte had been absorbed, he finally turned around.

_Jesus Christ, he’s fucking gorgeous._

Cris stared at the devil. She was lost in his three eyes, her gaze molested every inch of his strong, leather-clad body, right down to the tip of that tail, swishing this way and that as he stood there, so hypnotic. She couldn’t take her eyes off that streamlined mask, that perfect, gorgeous face, even if he stared at her like he was about to kill her next.

“Who… who are you?” Cris stammered.

The Digimon smiled very deliberately, like he was wondering what Cris might taste like, revealing pointed canines.

“The name’s Beelzemon, sugar.”

Her knees nearly buckled when he called her that. But in the end his hungry expression won over, and Cris shrunk out of his way without uttering a word. Why did she do _that?_ The Digimon known as Beelzemon dropped his gaze to Stingmon, who still struggled just to get to his feet, still so dangerously close to being wiped out of existence. Why was he here? What was he going to do next? Had he saved Stingmon only to kill him for himself?

He flexed his claws again.

“Can ya stand?” he asked the insect, holding out his right hand.

The two humans sighed in relief. Stingmon took the newcomer’s hand in his gauntlet, and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He staggered, but Beelzemon caught him on his own shoulder, supporting all the insect’s weight on himself. He began to walk carefully, leading Stingmon with him as he did.

The pair had reached the edge of the parking lot before Beelzemon turned to find the others frozen where he’d left them. Cris could do nothing but stare. Wizardmon finally stirred, and all Shelby could do was sweep him up in the tightest embrace she could muster, crying tears of relief.

“The fuck are y’all waitin’ for?” Beelzemon said simply. “Ya just gonna let me kidnap ya Digimon, sugar? Come with me, won’t ya? I might just be able ta help y’all out.”

And with that he walked away into the night.


End file.
